REVIEW: Little Caesars Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza

The meeting at Little Caesars for this pizza had one visual aid. It was a photo of a soft pretzel and a plus sign and then a photo of a pepperoni pizza and then an equals sign, and then a soft pretzel pizza.

Q: “But, Marshall, do you think we need to somehow optimize the flavors to each other?”

A: “Larry, do you or do you not want to go eat lunch?”

The meeting was six minutes long and they definitely did not eat Little Caesars for their meal.

Eating a slice of this pizza is like rummaging through boardwalk garbage. It’s a straight up soft pretzel stretched out into pizza form and had pepperoni and cheese put on it. It’s what the pawn seagulls probably bring to the queen seagull. Pretty sure Templeton from Charlotte’s Web has a slice of one of these things during his smorgasbord. I wouldn’t describe the pizza as “terrific” and probably not “humble,” but it absolutely had “some pig” in it.

Yo, Little Caesars, have you ever tried your own Hot-N-Ready pizzas? Thems salty. So what did you do? You added a pretzel bread, which is saltier, and then on top of that you sprinkled that rock salt that clears New England sidewalks in the winter.

After the first few bites, I had a salt wince duck face like it was selfie time. The pepperoni was not bad. But in the context of the entire pie, it was a little much having meat discs of sodium to surf on the waves of high blood pressure. Quiz: “I’m really looking forward to more Salt.” Is that a quote from me eating this pizza or Kurt Wimmer, writer of the Angelina Jolie film Salt? Find the answer hidden in this review somewhere! (It’s Kurt Wimmer)

Of course, our taste buds adapt to change, but it was disconcerting when a couple slices in I started to get used to it. Could I ever eat anything without salt again? What if this was my new normal? I looked up from my thoughts and realized I had eaten the entire pie.

I spent weeks wandering the street as a salt junkie until I went through the twelve step salt program. I’m now a salt-free, productive member of society but every once in a while when I’m at a mid-low caliber restaurant, the shaker with the white rocks calls my name. I ignore her pleas but she knows one day I’ll crumble. She knows.

Moreover, Lil’ Caesar, I like the way you run your store. I was in and out in about four minutes and there were two people in front of me in line. Handed over payment and received my product. Someone get the guy who thought that system up to help out with hospital emergency room triage. In and out. In and out. Easy. Everybody leaving the ER has a slice of pizza in their hand. Beautiful.

Since LiCa did such a good job with replicating a pretzel for the bread, there are a couple things to consider here. First is the texture. The soft pretzel bread was very similar to what we all know as soft pretzel bread, but the question is: Do we want that chewy, chewy texture for pizza? The answer for me is that it’s fine, but ultimately I like a crispy exterior and a chewy interior. It works for the novelty, but I don’t want it for my every day pizza.

Second is the cheese. There is some “real” cheese sprinkled on top but I noticed a cheddar cheese sauce that is also present, more the consistency of a thick nacho cheese. This was a cheese that tasted and felt like a dipping sauce that you might stick a soft pretzel into. It had a bit of zest and all the smoothness of Cheez Wiz. Again, fine for the novelty, but the more I think about it, it’s kind of gross. Like kissing!

It’s all a bit of an unbalanced affair and I’m not sure my hypertension can take another one, but the Soft Pretzel Crust Pizza is an interesting novelty, and a cheap one at that. If you’re ever pressed for time like those executives who thought up this pizza, and you really, really need to eat a soft pretzel and a pizza at once, the Little C got your back. Pizza pizza? Salty salty.

(Disclosure: We received a $10 Little Caesars gift card from Little Caesars to purchase the pizza.)